


Reprieve

by Brawness



Series: Rest and Recovery [2]
Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, I have a problem, Insomnia, M/M, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, Separation Anxiety, Trigger Warnings, cameo:taehyun, road to recovery, yet another sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 09:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brawness/pseuds/Brawness
Summary: Minho stared helplessly as his phone sank to the bottom of the ocean.OrMinho loses his phone and everyone panics.





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of 'Repose'. While it can be read as a stand alone, I recommended reading the first part to get a better feel of the characters. 
> 
> Please note that this is a work of fiction based on real people. It was written for the sole purpose of entertainment and does not in any way reflect on the lives, opinions and personalities of the real individuals.
> 
> I request for the privacy of the individuals whom this story was based on. Please DO NOT send it to them or find ways for them to see it. This is all for fun and I do not wish for them to be burdened by something that I wrote.
> 
> This story may contain sensitive topics. Please read at you own discretion.

 

_ "I don't know why nobody told you  
_

_  
How to unfold your love _

__  
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping  


_  
While my guitar gently weeps" _

 

Minho stared helplessly as his phone sank to the bottom of the ocean. The small dinghy he was riding to a remote island sped away from it. 

 

“Welp, don’t know what to tell you, kid. That phone’s fish food now.” His guide who was driving the boat said nonchalantly, as if used to seeing people dropping their shit into the sea. 

 

“B-but…” He sputtered. 

 

“It’s gonna be useless in the island anyway. No reception, no internet and best of all, no electricity.” An evil smile broke through the guide’s face. 

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

He already hiked for six kilometers to get to the dock as there was no road that a vehicle can pass through the forest. Then he needed to cross a distance of ocean to get to his destination. 

 

He was commissioned by a wildlife conservationist group to take pictures of a remote island in Eastern China so they can assess the situation of the area before they sent an entire team for rehabilitation. And before that, he was in Shanghai to collaborate with a fellow artist to design packaging for an organic beauty product campaign. 

 

It has been two weeks since he last saw Seungyoon. It was a little difficult to keep in touch, aside from sending the ocasional snap, or the phone calls he managed to sneak in, he wouldn’t have been able to contact him otherwise. 

 

His schedule was so busy, he wanted nothing more than to go home and cuddle with Seungyoon and Jhonny. 

 

“How do the people survive without electricity?” Minho asked, suddenly apprehensive at what he signed up for. 

 

“They don’t.” The man let out a crusty cackle. “I don’t know what the tree-huggers told you, but the island has been uninhabited since the 70’s. There should be an encampment you can use for shelter though.” He eyed Minho’s expensive looking waterproof and shock resistant camera gear. “You’d do well to take care of those. Wouldn’t want them to fall into the water either.” 

 

They arrived at the shore. With rising trepidation, Minho saw that the ‘encampment’ was no more than a glorified shed with sad looking shingles. 

 

There was definite proof that the island was indeed inhabited at some point but that was a long time ago. 

 

“I will come back for you before sunset, before the tide rolls in. If there is any problem use the flare, we’ll come get you immediately.” With a sinisterly cheerful wave, the guide left Minho. 

 

With a heavy sigh, he started setting up his stuff. 

 

*

 

The cat was uncharacteristically quiet in Seungyoon’s arms. They were both lying on the carpet at the loft in Minho’s apartment. The studio that usually had moody music playing and the background noise of a busy artist, was also eerily absent. 

 

He tracked the moon as it travelled across the big window by the bed. 

 

Minho hasn’t called for three days. He hasn’t been answering his phone either. 

 

His knuckles trembled as he tried to clench his fingers. 

 

“Minho.” He mouthed against Jhonny’s fur. The cat gave a solemn purr in response.

 

*

 

_ “The typhoon has caused considerable damage…” _

 

_ “Wind speed of 155 kilometers per hour…” _

 

_ “All flights to and from Shanghai cancelled…” _

 

_ “Casualties…” _

 

*

 

Minho’s flight arrived. He didn't. 

 

*

 

“Any word from representative Lu? Was the conservationist group contacted? I see. Thank you, Jiyong. Yes, please contact our people in Shanghai. Leave no stone unturned.” 

 

Seunghoon hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

“Song Minho, I will fucking beat your ass.” He gritted. 

 

His cousin hasn't slept properly since Minho left. That was three weeks ago. Never mind eating. He would never voluntarily eat anything. Seunghoon literally had to force feed him when they were growing up.

 

Seunghoon took the private elevator down and walked through the lobby, ignoring the staff that bowed to him. 

 

Around the corner across the street two blocks from his building, stashed a nondescript cafe called Sphynx. 

 

He opened the door and the scent of coffee, vanilla frosting and flowers greeted him. Along with the most beautiful smile that sang his name. 

 

Immediately, he felt half of his tension lifted from his shoulders. 

 

Jinwoo took off his apron and went around the counter to meet him halfway. 

 

Soft arms circled his middle and wrapped him in a cupcake scented hug. 

 

“Minho?” The cafe manager whispered. 

 

He shook his head and put his arms around the smaller, inhaling his comforting warmth.

 

“Yoonie?” 

 

Seunghoon swallowed. His cousin hasn't gone to the cafe since Minho disappeared off the face the earth. Alternating between Minho’s apartment and their own like a wandering ghost. Minho’s cat was wherever Seungyoon went. F

 

“Not eating. Not sleeping.” He will never forget the look of betrayal on Seungyoon’s face when he realized Seunghoon drugged him. He was now sleeping under the watch of their butler and housekeeper. 

 

“And you?” Jinwoo tilted his head up to look at him directly. 

 

Seunghoon let himself get lost in the deer like eyes before answering, “Fucking tired.” 

 

Jinwoo disengaged from him so suddenly that he felt a crushing disappointment that left him cold. The cafe manager went to the door and flipped the sign closed. 

 

“Let’s go.” 

 

“What?” Seunghoon was confused.

 

“To your penthouse.” 

 

*

 

It never failed to amaze Jinwoo whenever he went to the penthouse how people basically kowtowed to Seunghoon as they passed.

 

This must be some mafia stuff or something. 

 

Jinwoo never asked, after the first time. Seunghoon most definitely was a sugar daddy. 

 

No one who had a sugar daddy would garner that much respect. 

 

Still the same staff bowed to Jinwoo as well now.

 

He felt somewhat self conscious that he was wearing what he usually wore at the cafe and Seunghoon was dressed like the fashion model he used to be. The disparity of their stations hit him now more than ever. 

 

Seunghoon’s strong hand suddenly clasped his and raised it to his lips an absent minded kiss. It was so spontaneously and casually done that Jinwoo had no time to actually absorb what he did. Add the fact that it was in full view of his entire staff. 

 

His cheeks were burning. 

 

*

 

Seungyoon looked absolutely dwarfed and defenseless, burrowed in his king bed. The comforter Seunghoon covered him with was pooled around his hips, evidencing his restless state even in sleep. 

 

Soft footsteps cautiously tread behind him. 

 

“Oh no. Oh no, Yoonie.” Came the choked up voice. 

 

Jinwoo kicked off his shoes and climbed up on the bed, sitting on his heels close to Seungyoon. 

 

“Oh Seungyoon.” He whispered, his hand hesitantly reaching out to touch Seungyoon’s cheek. 

 

He understood Jinwoo’s reaction. Seungyoon probably lost eight kilos since Minho left. Weight he couldn’t afford to lose. He was gaunt and pale. Terrifyingly so. 

 

“Oh baby.” Jinwoo lay down facing him, running his fingers through Seungyoon’s hair. His fingers shook. Seunghoon could see the glassy beginnings of tears edging. “Seungyoonie…” 

 

Seungyoon stirred and they both froze. 

 

Hazy eyes opened. “Jinwoo… hyung.” The scratchiness of sleep was in his voice. 

 

“Yes, it’s me.” Jinwoo pulled the younger closer to him and Seungyoon let him. 

 

“Minho?” The voice was heartbreakingly small. 

 

A tear rolled down Jinwoo’s temple as he crushed Seungyoon to him. Seunghoon went behind his cousin and spooned him. His chest ached as he felt the sharp ridges of his ribs. He saw Jinwoo nuzzle the top of Seungyoon’s head. He reached over so he could put his arm around them both. 

 

“No news yet Yoonie. Soon.” He promised, not knowing if he will be able to keep it. The weather report was ominous. 

 

Seungyoon went to the airport three days ago to pick up Minho. 

 

The phone call Seunghoon received that day reminded him of a similar phone call from years before. He brushed that memory away. 

 

“Hyung.” The sound was faint from the other end. 

 

“Seungyoon. What’s up?” He answered. 

 

“Hyung.” The vulnerable sound had him on full alert. “Minho isn't here. I don’t know where he is. There’s news about a t-typhoon. I. I don’t know-, I c-can’t.” Strangled breaths pierced his ear. 

 

“Yoon. Calm down. Stay where you are, I’ll be right there.” 

 

He probably just lost five business deals that day, but he didn’t give a fuck. He needed to get to his cousin. 

 

He pulled so many strings just to find out about Minho’s flight information. He never got on the flight. He wasn’t seen anywhere in the airport and until now, he had people monitoring the cameras in case they spot him, nothing.

 

What a mess. 

 

All the flights in Shanghai were cancelled or rerouted since it was still in a state of calamity. He was now waiting for any news at all. 

 

His head hasn't stopped throbbing since the call.

 

*

 

It was close to two in the morning when Seungyoon started thrashing in bed in the middle of a nightmare. 

 

Jinwoo startled awake when a hand pushed at his chest. He instinctively braced his arms around Seungyoon, preventing him from moving. Seunghoon sat up, the shadows and lines of his face told Jinwoo that he did not sleep at all. 

 

With a gentle pat on his arm, Seunghoon took his cousin from him and sat him up against his body. 

 

“Yoonie.” He whispered, tenderly rocking Seungyoon back and forth as the younger whimpered. “It's only a dream. Please wake up.” 

 

Jinwoo could only watch as Seungyoon was terrorized by his own mind. The younger was gasping and murmuring under his breath, each breath a strangled sob. 

 

With a harsh jerk, Seungyoon sat bolt upright, his eyes opened blankly, staring directly at Jinwoo, but not really seeing him.

 

Chills ran down his spine. It was not a scene he would forget any time soon. 

 

“Seungyoonie…” He very carefully put his shaking hand on the boy’s cold cheek. “Please. It’s me.” He palmed his cheeks with both hands now, running his thumbs along the prominent bones there. 

 

Seunghoon sat closer and wrapped himself around his motionless cousin. 

 

“He’s gone.” 

 

The statement was all the more chilling with how calm it was. The vacant eyes bore holes into Jinwoo. 

 

“He got swept away.” Small tremors started. “Like my mom. He’s gone.” 

 

“No, no, no. Oh Yoonie. Baby.” Jinwoo pushed his forehead against Seungyoon's, frantically stroking his cheeks. 

 

“Minho will be back. I will find him for you. I promise.” Seunghoon rasped, his face etched in despair, arms going tightly around both his cousin and Jinwoo. 

 

“Was the water cold?” Tremors became shivers, Jinwoo could hear his teeth chattering. “Why is it c-cold? W-why am I s-so cold?” 

 

Jinwoo disengaged from the cousins and pulled the comforter from the bed so he can wrap it around Seungyoon. His burning eyes saw that Seunghoon was unwilling to let go of his cousin, so he just wrapped the blanket around him too. 

 

“We are here, Yoonie. You are safe. Minho is safe. Look at me.” Jinwoo tilted the younger’s face as he knelt before him. “Please. Wake up and look at me. Please Yoonie. We are so worried. Your Seunghoon hyung is worried.” 

 

“Seunghoon…” The boy mouthed. “hyung.” His eyes flickered and fluttered close. 

 

Finally released from the grip of what was tormenting him, he slumped back against Seunghoon. 

 

Feeling as if his bones turned into jelly, Jinwoo sat, just looking at the other two, his heart that he didn't realize was racing started to calm down. 

 

“Seunghoon hyung.” Seungyoon muttered, turning his face into Seunghoon’s neck. 

 

“Hmm?” He leaned his head closer. 

 

“It was so dark and cold. Scary.” Seungyoon gripped Seunghoon’s shirt begging. “No more pills please. So scared. I can't take it. Please hyung. Promise me. I cant-” Little shudders racked his frame.

 

The look of utter devastation on Seunghoon’s face hurt Jinwoo more than he could have imagined. It was such an unadulterated feeling. Jinwoo wanted to just hold the cousins and comfort both of them. 

 

“Okay.” Seunghoon’s strained voice wounded him. “I won’t. I promise.” 

 

The youngest nodded and finally relaxed into Seunghoon’s arms.

 

*

 

Seunghoon held him like he always did. 

 

He couldn’t count how many times they slept together since they were children. When the silence of their lonely mansion haunting them both at night when they were not allowed to raise their voice. 

 

Seungyoon was not always a sleepless child. 

 

It was just occasional bouts of continuous sleeplessness until his body couldn’t handle it anymore and collapses. Then he will be up and running again as if nothing happened. 

 

They knew. Their parents. The staff. 

 

At first they tried to help. Treatments. Therapy. Medication. Nothing really helped. 

 

At some point they all just gave up and relegated his cousin as a problematic child. Seungyoon just had insomnia sometimes. That’s it. 

 

The nights he couldn’t sleep, he would sneak into Seunghoon’s room when the shadows coming from his window scared him. Seunghoon was used to it. He would just lift his blanket and let the younger crawl in. 

 

It was customary for them to just lay in bed and talk about everything. Or just lay there and say nothing. 

 

But the occasional insomnia changed when Seungyoon’s mother died. 

 

He thought then that Seungyoon would die too. 

 

When his cousin was peacefully sleeping again, he arranged him gently on the bed, trying to contain the tightness in his own chest. 

 

Carefully disentangling himself from the blanket, he padded to the bathroom and washed his face. 

 

His lungs were burning. 

 

He went into his room on the other side of the flat and sat on the big armchair by the window he used for stargazing. 

 

He rubbed his chest to ease some of the suffocating tightness when two arms came around his shoulders from behind. The softness smelled like tea and flowers this time. 

 

He closed his eyes, the pain easing slightly. 

 

Jinwoo straightened, letting go of him. The devastating pain seeped back. He opened his eyes to see his lover kneeling between his legs. He held his breath. 

 

Clear doe eyes focused on Seunghoon’s face, expression kind, understanding. 

 

He leaned forward, their faces only an inch apart that he felt his breath against his lips. Seunghoon found his fingers trailing over Jinwoo’s cheek, the smooth skin warm and soft. 

 

Long lashes fluttered close. He touched those too. The straight bridge of his nose. The delicate petal like lips. 

 

“So beautiful.” He uttered. 

 

Jinwoo opened his eyes, smiling sweetly at him, his deep dimples making an appearance. 

 

Seunghoon felt the gossamer touch of lips against his own and he was pushed back into the chair, with Jinwoo leaning closer to him. He could feel the warmth of his torso between his thighs. 

 

Deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt, leaving scorching kisses down his chest and stomach. His pants came undone next. His heartbeat quickened considerably as did his breathing. 

 

Jinwoo touched him tenderly, cherishing. 

 

The heat and softness of his mouth pulled Seunghoon in completely, it was all he could do to grip the arms of the chair tightly, with the faintest moan. Jinwoo didn’t let up. 

 

His thoughts spiralled up into a haze of feverish pleasure, until he couldn’t contain himself anymore and crashed down in waves with a strangled groan. 

 

Jinwoo handled him with consideration to his sensitivity, his cheek leaned against Seunghoon’s thigh, his hand stroking the other leg, watching him recover. 

 

Seunghoon was incapable of doing anything except stare at Jinwoo’s face. So beautiful. So generous. 

 

His own lips tilted up slightly. 

 

*

 

The night outside seemed desolate, but cradled in Seunghoon’s lap, Jinwoo’s emotions were a mess. 

 

Seunghoon told him a bit about their history. 

 

It was all he could do not to break down in tears. 

 

He was the illegitimate son of a politician. Very high profile. He was not and never will be recognized as the man’s son. He was not allowed to tell anyone. Only Seungyoon knew. And his mother. 

 

“For your safety, the secret will die with me.” A bitter light came to his eyes. “As it did with my mother.” 

 

Seunghoon studied to become a government official at first, to the consternation of his mother. 

 

“I met him once. He attended a gathering hosted by one of our business partners.” 

 

Jinwoo put his hand atop Seunghoon’s that rested on his thigh. 

 

“He shook my hand, congratulating me on taking over the company at such a young age.” 

 

That was it. Jinwoo bit his lip, his vision misting. He leaned his head closer to the crook of Seunghoon’s neck, feeling the steady pulse there. 

 

He succeeded his mother instead. 

 

His mother died when Seunghoon was twenty-two. Two years after Seungyoon’s mother died from a car accident. 

 

“A heart attack, they said. At age forty.” Seunghoon played with Jinwoo’s fingers. “She loved too much, I think.” 

 

His mother and Seungyoon’s were fraternal twins. Both disowned by their father because of the men they chose to love. 

 

How did Seunghoon ever manage to take care of his cousin, his mother’s and aunt’s company and his own interests during the time of so much grief? Jinwoo saw the news of the death of their mothers. It was all over the news. He was in college at that time and barely gave it a passing glance. Who cared about rich people anyway? 

 

No one, apparently. And it was killing him. 

 

“The old man bequeathed everything to me and Seungyoon. He died a year after my mother. He didn’t even try to talk to us. He was a bitter old man.” Seunghoon gave Jinwoo a lopsided smile. 

 

“Seungyoon and I decided to step down as potential directors for that company and just became majority shareholders with deciding power. Our solicitors took care of that for us too.” 

 

“The old man must be rolling in his grave that the company he treasured so much is being run by total strangers.” 

 

The arm around Jinwoo’s waist tightened, pulling him even closer to Seunghoon’s bare chest. 

 

“She took me to the mansion when I was seven to meet him. She was so proud. Dressed me up. So proud of me.” Seunghoon said. “I won the National Youth Chess Tournament.” 

 

Jinwoo could almost imagine a young, gangly Seunghoon proudly holding a medal. He grinned at the thought. “Well done.” He said. 

 

Seunghoon nodded and continued. Jinwoo had a niggling feeling that Seunghoon’s happy day was marred by a bad memory. 

 

“He let my mother into the study. I heard him. ‘I do not wish to see that bastard whelp of yours. Or the other one.’.” Seunghoon pressed his cheek on top of Jinwoo’s head, mussing the hair there. “He wouldn’t even address Seungyoon as a person.” 

 

Jinwoo couldn’t imagine how much that must have hurt. His throat felt tight, his face hot. 

 

“My mom cried. Begged. He wouldn’t see me.” Jinwoo gripped Seunghoon’s open collar, biting his lip. “She came out, her eyes were red, but she smiled at me. She knew I heard everything, but she said that we will go out to buy ice cream instead, since I did so well.” 

 

“To this day, I don’t like ice cream.” Seunghoon said with a self deprecating laugh.

 

His breath hitched. Jinwoo struggled to keep it in, but couldn’t contain how his shoulders were trembling. Hot tears scalded his cheeks and dripped onto Seunghoon’s shirt and skin.

 

He saw Seunghoon’s fingers move to tilt his chin up, brows furrowed in concern. 

 

“You are crying.” 

 

Jinwoo brought his shaking hand to the center of Seunghoon’s chest, seeking the organ that pumped life through this precious person who was so broken. So brave. So strong. 

 

“Do you ever stop hurting?” Jinwoo asked in a small voice. 

 

Seunghoon gazed down at him, mystified. His eyes bore down on him with such intensity, Jinwoo wanted to flinch, but he couldn’t, he was equally caught by his stare. Something shifted in him. Something that told Jinwoo everything just changed between them. 

 

And to his question, Seunghoon answered. 

 

“Right now.” He whispered. “I don’t hurt right now.” 

 

*

 

Seungyoon was once again stuck in the relentless vacuum that plagued him since his mother died. Like a waking nightmare of somehow not knowing the difference between dreams and reality. 

 

He was coherent. He knew what was going on. He just couldn’t separate the time spent in the nightmare while sleeping and while awake. 

 

In a single moment, his life was plunged into a nightmare that was worse. 

 

Not knowing. 

 

It was worse because there was hope. 

 

Hope that could be crushed at any given time. 

 

It was worse than when his mother died, because she died in a car crash chasing after his father, leaving Seungyoon.

 

Minho was coming back to him. 

 

Sometimes he would dream that Minho was back. That he never left. But that dream would morph into Seungyoon being stuck in a car that runs over a barricade and crashes into the sea or some other sordid variation. Minho disappears every single time. 

 

What was more painful, the surreal cruelty of dreams or the very real cruelty of waking? 

 

It made no difference to him, he was in both. 

 

A soft voice called his attention. Jinwoo. In a haze, he understood that the older was telling him that he would be preparing soup for Seungyoon. He nodded. Not that he would eat it. 

 

He couldn’t. 

 

Not until… 

 

“Seungyoon.” 

 

He closed his eyes. It was starting again. He dug his nails into his palm. It hurt. Everything hurt. Like glass embedded into his skin, dragging into his flesh and passing through his veins. 

 

He must have memorized the sound of his voice that his soul recognized every single nuance of it, from the timbre to the subtle lilt at the end.

 

Was this a new ploy his brain concocted to administer a new brand of viciousness? Making him remember details down to the miniscule, to remind him of what he did not have? 

 

“Look at me.” 

 

He couldn’t resist. Another cruelty. He knew how it inevitably ends. 

 

He couldn’t resist. Even if just for a twisted moment, he had his Minho again. 

 

He opened his eyes. 

 

Minho was kneeling in front of him. 

 

His hair was longer. Another blessed and cursed detail. His skin was darker that his dark brown eyes seemed lighter than they were. He was thinner. 

 

Seungyoon carved these details into his heart. 

 

He waited for Minho to fade. He stared at the beloved face for as long as he could. He never averted his eyes. Not even once. 

 

Minho took his hand and pressed his palm to his lips. 

 

So warm. 

 

His fingers curled inwards, brushing the skin of his jaw, feeling the invisible stubble there. Precious details. 

 

He traced all of them, cherishing with caution. Any moment now. He still kept feeling. 

 

His brows, the bridge of his nose. The high cheekbones. His lips. 

 

“Say something.” Minho implored. 

 

“I’m waiting.” He replied. 

 

Minho’s confused face was adorable. Another memory. “Waiting?” 

 

“For you to disappear.” 

 

Minho shook. His brows furrowed as if in pain. 

 

“Yoon.” The raw voice scraped at Seungyoon’s heart. 

 

Minho took both of his hands in his and brought them to his lips. The warmth seeped into Seungyoon’s fingers. Minho’s breath permeated the spaces in between. Breathing life into him. 

 

When Minho looked up again, his eyes were wet. 

 

“Seungyoonie. It’s me. I’m back.” 

 

Seungyoon calmly took Minho’s face in his hands and kissed him. 

 

*

 

Jinwoo was running. 

 

He couldn’t control the small hiccups that came from his chest. Minho was back. He was with Seungyoon. 

 

Everything will be okay. 

 

Seunghoon will be okay. 

 

He was running as fast as his feet would take him and his lungs would allow. To Seunghoon’s office four blocks away from the penthouse. 

 

By office, he actually meant a twenty story building. 

 

Panting, he realized that he hasn’t actually gone to Seunghoon’s building. There hasn’t been any reason to, he had access to Seunghoon’s house. And even then, Seunghoon preferred coming to Jinwoo’s bungalow, saying he missed the cats. 

 

He pointed to the building once when they were out on a drive, saying that if for some reason Jinwoo wished to visit him, he could come at any time. 

 

The lobby was huge, with a lot of people going this way and that. All office people, dressed in higher end business attire. Jinwoo was absolutely out of place, wearing Seunghoon’s shirt  and his own sweatpants. 

 

Minho was back. 

 

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling. 

 

How was he supposed to find Seunghoon in this huge building? He didn’t even bring his phone. Was he even in the building? He looked around to find the reception desk, when he saw a group of men in suits exit an elevator. 

 

Leading them was a tall figure, heart stoppingly handsome in a grey Tom Ford suit. 

 

Jinwoo tried to catch up to them walking to the other side of the building. He was too far. The group was too fast. 

 

“Lee Seunghoon!” 

 

He didn’t mean to shout so loudly. Everyone within the vicinity turned to look. So did the intended person. Jinwoo’s heart was racing. 

 

Seunghoon murmured something to his associates and separated from them with a nod. It was so silent that Jinwoo could hear the sound of his footsteps from where he was standing. 

 

Seunghoon’s stare locked on Jinwoo’s face, eyes sharpening on Jinwoo’s wet, red rimmed eyes, from obvious crying. He walked faster until he was right in front of Jinwoo. 

 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He asked sharply, alarmed. 

 

Jinwoo couldn’t contain it anymore. A sob broke out from his chest as twin tears fell from his eyes. He grabbed Seunghoon’s lapel. 

 

“Minho’s back.” He said.

 

Slowly absorbing the information, Seunghoon took Jinwoo’s hand from his coat, holding on to his wrist. 

 

The next thing Jinwoo knew, he was plastered to Seunghoon’s body, the taller’s arms tight around him, and Seunghoon’s face was buried on his shoulder. 

 

He could feel the lean body trembling with emotion as the cloth of his shirt got wet. 

 

Jinwoo knew that everyone was staring at them looking quite shocked, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

 

Not when Lee Seunghoon was holding him as if he was the last lifeline in a sinking ship. 

 

Jinwoo circled his arms around him, rubbing his back and made soothing sounds, his own tears trailing down cheeks in a cathartic release. 

 

*

 

The warm planes of inked skin transfixed him, he could not look anywhere else. Minho was beautiful. From the sharp edges of bone and sinew, to the soft look in his eyes, Seungyoon worshipped every single part. 

 

Minho surrounded his senses. Warmth, scent and taste. Seungyoon dragged his tongue along the ridge of his collar. He felt so real. Tasted so real. 

 

Lying on his back, the moon bathing them both in in a silvery glow, Minho hovered over him like a dark angel, eyes glowing, holding his own with soulful gravity. Seungyoon reached up, fingertips grazing warm skin. So real. 

 

Minho took his hand and pressed it down beside his head, holding him down. Seungyoon was panting. It was hot. Minho was everywhere, surrounding him. Inside him. Filling the empty spaces. Chasing away the ice in his veins. 

 

He could feel him. Every movement. Every thrust. Every whisper. 

 

He was real. 

 

“Minho.” 

 

He ached. 

 

The longing. The loss. The terrible, terrible fear. And finally, the relief. The all came crashing. 

 

Soft lips scattered kisses all over his face, the corners of his eyes, his mouth. Comforting noises and sweet nothings whispered to his ear, arms holding him tight. 

 

He didn’t realize he was crying until a painful sob was ripped from his chest. He couldn’t stop it. It was hard to breathe. He brought his hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds that came from it. 

 

His Minho was back. He was real. He was alive. 

 

“Yoonie.” Minho’s tone was tortured. Seungyoon opened his eyes, everything misty including Minho’s face. 

 

A sob, one after another, as he felt the tears pour from his eyes, soaking into his hair. 

 

Minho, alarmed, started to pull out of him. 

 

All at once, panic suffused Seungyoon. No. Not again. 

 

“No!” He cried, wrapping his arms around Minho’s back. Holding him close. Keeping him in. Holding him as tight as he could as if his life depended on it. And it did. “No, please. Please don’t. Minho, please. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me again. Please.” He begged, he babbled. He was mindlessly pleading. 

 

He hooked his shaking legs around Minho’s hips to hold him there. His body was protesting the strain of holding so tight, he was wracked with tremors. His breathing hitched, not letting him have a full breath, but he pressed his face into Minho’s neck. 

 

He didn’t know how much time has passed, when the panic subsided, but he was still crying, little sobs and hiccups, tears falling consistently. Minho was still there, murmuring comforting noises.

 

“Shh. I’m here. Don’t cry. I’m here now. I won’t leave you again. I promise. I’m here now.” Minho’s deep voice vibrated in his own chest, that’s how close they were pressed together. 

 

Seungyoon nodded against the tattooed shoulder, reality finally sinking in. Minho was back. He was alive. He was okay. He was with Seungyoon again. But just to be sure,

 

“You’re real?”

 

Minho moved his hips in a gentle thrust, Seungyoon moaned involuntarily at the reminder that he was very real and was still hard inside him. 

 

“Tell me. Am I real, Kang Seungyoon?” He asked. Another thrust. 

 

Yes.  _ Yes.  _

 

Seungyoon held on. He felt full. Whole. 

 

Complete. 

 

*

 

Minho held his lover for a little while longer. His heart ached at each pass of his hand over the fragile bones under the sleek skin. 

 

His hair was bleached blond again. He probably had it done before Minho was supposed to arrive. It was still soft in spite of the obvious chemical damage, a fact that never ceased to amaze him. 

 

He had seen Seungyoon in so many colors in the nine months that they were together. Blue, pink, lavender. Sometimes he just let it grow out and let it be its natural warm brown. It was Minho’s favorite. Seungyoon would let it grow past his jaw, the ends fluffy and curling around his face. It grew fast and thick and luxurious. He was jealous. 

 

But he loved running his hands through the silky strands, playing with it every chance he got. A habit that Seungyoon also seemed to like him doing. 

 

Minho drew patterns on his shoulder, lightly caressing the skin under his jaw. He was deeply concerned at how much weight Seungyoon lost. The skin under his eyes was bruised and paper thin. He could see the purple tracery of veins on his eyelids. He pursed his lips. 

 

It was very likely that Seungyoon hasn’t eaten yet, since it was barely past dinner time. 

 

Carefully setting Seungyoon on the pillow, feeling a small twinge at the loss of his warmth, he covered him with the comforter and went into the kitchen to reheat the soup Jinwoo left for them.

 

As Minho was setting up the tray to take back to Seungyoon when he heard a sob come from the bedroom. 

 

He rushed back to where he left Seungyoon, only to find him sitting up, arms tightly around his stomach, rocking himself back and forth on the side of the bed, tears wetting his legs. 

 

“Yoon!” He immediately knelt in front of the boy, guilt eating at him he actually felt his chest cave. “Seungyoon.” He repeated, cradling his face with his hands, wiping the torrent of tears ineffectually with his thumbs. He shouldn’t have left him to wake up alone. 

 

Seungyoon raised his face to finally look at Minho, his expression full of grief. 

 

“Oh Yoonie.” He groaned and pulled the younger into his arms until they were both on the floor and Seungyoon sat between his legs. 

 

“I-I’m s-sorry.” Seungyoon sobbed, his fingers curling into Minho’s shirt. “I thought you were g-gone.” 

 

“Hush.” Mino rocked him gently the slight frame shuddering, his own eyes were burning. He couldn’t imagine what Seungyoon went through when he wasn’t able to contact him.

 

Minho told Seungyoon what happened, how he lost his phone and how he was actually stranded in a small village for a few days since the roads were unpassable, his guide was kind enough to offer him shelter during the storm, which luckily did not hit the area too hard. 

 

In order to get home, he had to book two different flights to bypass the storm, he flew from Shanghai to Taiwan the moment flights were available, then from Taiwan back to South Korea. And from there, he made a brief stop at his loft to take a shower and a shave and went directly to the penthouse. 

 

He should have at least called, but he didn’t memorize anyone’s number.

 

He hugged Seungyoon, who already calmed down, tighter and nuzzled his strawberry scented hair. 

 

“I heated up some soup, let’s eat okay?” He murmured. 

 

He felt the brief tightening of Seungyoon’s fingers on his shirt, expecting his refusal to let go, until he nodded. 

 

Minho got them both to their feet, steadying Seungyoon who swayed a little. His collarbones stood out from the loose neck of the shirt, barely clinging to a bony shoulder. His lips tightened. He will do his best to put back all the weight that Seungyoon loss in his absence. 

 

He was cutting up some fruit while Seungyoon watched him on the other side of the counter. 

 

“Minho…” 

 

He looked up just in time to see Seungyoon bring his hand to his face, mystified at the sight of blood on his fingers. Minho stood there frozen, until Seungyoon’s face went slack and dropped to the floor. 

 

“Seungyoon!” 

 

Minho rounded the counter and fell to his knees beside an unmoving Seungyoon who lay crumpled. Unadulterated fear seized his chest when he saw the blood that trickled from his nose and dripped on the white marble.

 

With mindfulness that belied his panic, he checked Seungyoon for injuries before scooping him to his chest. His face was bone white and his breathing shallow. 

 

“Seungyoon, wake up.” He tapped his face gently, tilting it to the side so the blood won’t go to his throat. His skin was cold to the touch with a fine film of sweat. 

 

“Yoonie, please.” He rubbed his arms to warm him, breathing on his hands. 

 

He was about to just pick him up and rush him to the hospital when the younger’s lashes fluttered. 

 

He murmured encouraging words until Seungyoon’s eyes opened, dazed.

 

“What…” He started weakly. 

 

“You fainted.” Minho explained, pressing his lips to his temple, relief pouring into him in waves. He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and wiped at the blood that was still sluggishly going. 

 

Seungyoon tried to take it from him but Minho won’t let him. 

 

“Sorry.” Seungyoon whispered and huddled closer to him. 

 

The small tone broke his heart. This was all his fault. 

 

“Don’t be.” He hugged him back. 

 

When the bleeding stopped, he carried Seungyoon to the bathroom, sat him on the toilet and cleaned him up there. He wiped the dried blood from his face and hands carefully with a wet towel. 

“Do you feel sick?” 

 

Seungyoon shook his head. “Just tired.” 

 

“Yoon.” He knelt in front of the younger and taking his cold hands. “You fainted. I think we need to take you to the doctor. You lost so much weight.” 

 

“I haven’t been sleeping well. I just need to rest.” Seungyoon avoided his eyes. 

 

“But what if it is something else? Please Yoonie, can we just see one real quick? For mine and Seunghoon’s peace of mind.” Minho urged. He wasn’t above manipulation just to make sure that Seungyoon was alright. 

 

Seungyoon sighed but nodded.

 

*

 

“I don’t like needles and hospitals, Minho.” Seungyoon was in a private room that his personal physician assigned him to, waiting for his IV to get done. 

 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips to where the IV line was taped on the back of Seungyoon’s hand where a bruise was already forming. He seemed so frail covered by a thin hospital sheet. 

 

Fatigue. Low blood sugar. Low blood pressure. Malnutrition. Dehydration. Related to stress and insomnia. All of which caused by Minho. The doctor suggested vitamin shots and an IV drip to replete him faster. 

 

“Hospitals are cold. And they smell weird.” He continued, tightening his fingers around Minho’s. He turned to his side to face him. He looked like a small child like that. Pouting and petulant. 

 

“Will it make you feel better if I hold you?” Minho smiled when the pouty lips pursed and acquiesced. “Scoot over.”

 

Careful of the tube connecting Seungyoon to the IV stand, he climbed into the uncomfortable hospital bed only meant for one person. Seungyoon went into his arms with a contented sigh, burrowing into his chest like his cat Jhonny would. 

 

Seungyoon felt so fragile to Minho that he was afraid of holding him too tightly. He already was guilty enough about the bruises he left during their lovemaking that he saw when Seungyoon was dressing. 

 

He knew that Seungyoon bruised easily, but it was never easy for Minho seeing them. 

 

“I shouldn’t have gone.” Minho ran his hand up and down his back. 

 

Seungyoon’s head popped up. “What do you mean?” 

 

Minho brushed the stray hairs that were on his brow. “I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have gone.” 

 

“Of course you should.” Seungyoon propped himself up on his elbow, Minho wincing as the bony protrusion dug into his sternum. 

 

“But you got sick, I wasn’t able to call you and-,” He was promptly shut up by Seungyoon who pressed his plush lips to his own, effectively stopping him from saying anything else. 

 

“Song Minho.” His name said with such seriousness captured all his attention. Seungyoon looked down at him with more gravity than his age should allow. 

 

“Never sacrifice something that you love for me. I want you to have everything.” 

 

Minho pressed his thumb gently to where the pulse beat on his neck and considered his words gravely. 

 

“But I love you more.” 

 

Seungyoon’s eyes misted, his throat obviously working with some unnamed emotion. He lay down once more, his ear pressed to Minho’s chest, over his heart. 

 

Minho accepted that. He understood. Seungyoon’s hand tightened where it was on his chest. Minho took that hand and pressed it to his lips and held Seungyoon closer. 

 

That was all he needed. 

 

*

 

Seunghoon arrived at the hospital to pick them up, his face rigid with worry, but he didn’t say anything. He just hugged Seungyoon and went to deal with the bills. 

 

When Seungyoon was dressed and ready to go, Minho put his arm around his waist and made their way to the private entrance of the hospital. 

 

They were passing a few people on the way until Minho noticed a group of men in business suits that the people bowed to.

 

“Seungyoon-hyung.” The youngest of them called out, his black hair parted in the middle, worried looking brows slanted on his face.

 

Seungyoon halted in his tracks but he didn’t turn towards the person. Seunghoon came forward instead. “We were just leaving, Taehyun.” 

 

Nam Taehyun. Seungyoon’s younger half brother. Minho pressed Seungyoon closer to him protectively. 

 

Taehyun’s eyes caught the motion and looked at Minho. His gaze caught everything from the arm around Seungyoon’s waist to the plaster on Seungyoon’s hand. 

 

“Why are you here? Are you ill?” He asked urgently. 

 

“Gee, I wonder why people are in hospitals, Taehyun.” Seunghoon answered sarcastically. 

 

The younger bristled. “I wasn’t talking to you, Lee Seunghoon.” 

 

“Let’s go.” Seungyoon said quietly. 

 

“Hyung.” Taehyun called out, his tone had a different note to it. 

 

“Not anymore, Taehyun.” Seungyoon whispered. 

 

Minho could have sworn he saw startled hurt flash on the younger’s face until he wiped it off with a stoic expression. 

 

“Let’s go.” Minho towed Seungyoon to the exit and into the waiting car. 

 

*

 

“I signed everything away.” Seungyoon later explained when they were in Minho’s bed. Jhonny purred by their legs. He asked Seunghoon to drop them there, thankfully, their housekeeper kept the apartment clean and ready for occupancy before Minho arrived. 

 

Minho’s hand drifted on his back, lazily drawing random mazes on his skin. He just let Seungyoon talk as he was wont to do. He never forced Seungyoon to do anything. Everything he told him was of his own volition. 

 

How his mother got pregnant by this entertainment company president. But he married someone else. The daughter of a pharmaceutical company. Sure a coffee and tea heiress was nothing to sneeze at, but his mother got disowned when she got pregnant before marriage. 

 

She went after him, for years she never lost hope, even going so far as declaring Seungyoon as his son that the man had to acknowledge him somehow, just to quiet the scandal. 

 

There was a brief time that Seungyoon visited the other house to make it seem as if they were coexisting, when in reality, he was left in a room full of video games and snacks that he shared with Taehyun. 

 

Those visits became far and few in between especially when his and Taehyun’s relationship became awkward. Age finally made Taehyun realize the strangeness of their situation. 

 

Seungyoon didn’t blame him. 

 

He barely spoke to his own father 

 

Still his mother pushed. Whatever manipulation she could orchestrate. 

 

But she didn’t care. She loved him. 

 

Love. 

 

She said she loved Seungyoon, but she loved that man more. 

 

“The man is dying.” Seungyoon said. Minho stilled, then resumed stroking his back. 

 

“They wanted a clean break. To make sure I don’t come collecting.” His lips twisted wryly remembering the exact words they told him. How crude. 

 

Minho never offered his opinion in these matters. He let Seungyoon decide for himself and supported him on the side. Minho accepted whatever Seungyoon told him. 

 

“What has that wealth done to make anyone happy?” Minho’s voice reverberated from his chest to Seungyoon’s ear. He looked down at him, eyes bright in the dimness of the room. 

 

“But you will be happier now, Yoon. We’ll work on it.” Minho smoothed his cheek tenderly. 

 

Seungyoon closed his eyes against the white hot emotion that filled his chest. It expanded filling all empty spaces until Seungyoon was brimming with it, down to the tips of his toes. 

 

He pushed himself up on Minho’s chest again to look directly into his face. 

 

“I don’t think I love you, Song Minho.” 

 

The other froze. 

 

“My mother said that she loved that man, but it destroyed her. She said she loved me but she left me.” He swallowed. 

 

Minho’s face softened, but he let Seungyoon continue. 

 

“It must be something else. Love has always been painful for me. It couldn’t possibly be that. I never felt anything else but happy whenever I am with you. But I don’t know what to call it.” Seungyoon’s lip trembled. 

 

“You don’t have to call it anything.” Minho’s lips met his in the softest way possible. Calm and affirming. “Just know that I feel the same way.” 

 

Seungyoon closed his eyes, and rested his head on the chest that held the heart he treasured. 

 

And he slept. 

 

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> -I was stuck for so long on this story, I almost scrapped it. Please leave me kind words, and comments (kudos are nice too :)), I worked so hard on this. T.T 
> 
> -The song that inspired me while writing this was “Hug Me” by Nam Taehyun (I KNOW, OK T_T)
> 
> -Just so you know, there is a bonus story in the works, more Jinhoon centric. :D
> 
> -This is mostly a gift for my lovely soul sisters T and M, both of which kept me sane in my moments of stupor, giving me ideas (ahuehue). I love you both, thank you for keeping me grounded and making me feel less alone.
> 
> -Oh, if you made it this far, I have a Twitter now. Follow me? Or not. :D [HERE](https://twitter.com/usmarchioness?s=09)
> 
>  
> 
> -Thank you for reading!
> 
> -PS This story is shamelessly unedited. Please feel free to point out any mistakes I made and I am very sorry. LOL


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